Holding on
by xfmoon
Summary: To hold on, you must first let go.


**A/N:** Don't know where this came from, it just popped into my hiatus stricken brain.

 **Spoilers:** For 1x22 Beginning of the End, and a little bit for 2x01 Shadows.

 **Disclaimer:** I hold on to a lot of things, but I have never even touched the rights to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. nor do I own them. 

* * *

She had never been good at holding on; this was true for both people and things. Even when she was little, if you placed one thing in her tiny hands it would soon be replaced by something else. Her inquisitive mind would make her examine what was right in front of her, and as soon as that had been identified, utilized, and mapped out in her brain she would move on to the next new mystery. There were no attachments, only puzzles to solve and problems to debunk, and new adventures that were always waiting just around the next corner.

It made people think she was odd, but she never really noticed. Being far too busy making discoveries that could potentially change the world and ultimately make something of herself in the process.

Clinging, no matter to what, and never letting go, meant holding on to the past, and didn't lead to any kind of evolution. And without evolution, without some form of progress, the world would slowly but surely deteriorate. And with the endless wonders that existed out there, that would decidedly be a shame and a terrible waste.

Change was natural, nothing good ever came from getting too attached.

Now, she wasn't a cold person, she was actually both sweet and caring. But she didn't believe in being dependent on anyone or anything. She knew if she wanted something she had to work hard to earn it. And strings just complicated matters.

That's why she never in a million years would have believed she would wake up night after night drenched in sweat, desperately hugging a pillow. The same nightmare haunting her dreams.

* * *

 _She was cold, very cold. Surrounded by water for miles and miles. Her legs were tired of continuously treading water, but she had to keep going, she couldn't stop. She couldn't stop now. Her eyelids felt so heavy, even keeping them only half open used more energy than she thought she had left. All she wanted was to sleep. But she couldn't, she had to stay awake, had to keep alert. She had long since lost the feelings in her arms, they were wrapped so tightly around the one thing she just couldn't afford to lose, that the tension were starting to spread to her back and the rest of her body. Her fingers were firmly entangled in his shirt. His_ _lifeless_ _head rested against her chest, his curls splashed wet and sticky against her cheek with each wave._

 _The sun was setting. There was nothing but ocean in all directions, she had turned and turned, first this way, then that way, until she had to stay still to catch her breath. The horizon never changed, the constantly active, ever swaying element taunted her with its movement, but never really revealing anything new._ _The hue of the water changed gradually, blue became purple as the sun descended, wandering lower and lower on the darkening sky, purple turned into red as it reached the dividing line between heaven and earth, the sky and the sea. As the day turned to night the water cooled down further, and as chills shook her body she knew hypothermia was not far away. She couldn't keep this up. All day she had been on the lookout, but there had been no signs of help, no approaching ships, no planes or helicopters, nothing, there were no birds in sight or sounds aside from the constant slurping of the water against their bodies. Darkness surrounded them,_ _swaddling them in fear._ _She was just so tired. She felt her strength ebbing out of her and into the current. She was using all of her last bit of energy trying to concentrate on the unconscious person in her arms, but just trying to keep his head above water was a struggle. She could no longer think straight, there was only one coherent thought left in her mind - 'She had to hold on to him!'_

 _He was slipping out of her grip, while she tried_ _desperately to grasp a hold of him, his clothes, anything at all, but her fingers were cold and cramped and there was nothing she could do. She tried screaming, but no sounds came out of her mouth, her throat was too dry - which was ironic giving her surroundings. The words got stuck in her attempts to shout them out and her chapped, sunburned lips cracked into small fissures that stung every time the salty water kissed her._

 _Eventually the water took hold on him, claimed him as its own and dragged him along with it; further and further down he ascended, into the gloomy blackness. She went in after him, pushed her way through the obscurity of the dark water. She couldn't reach him. The pull of Poseidon was too strong and she was too slow. He was slipping away from her and all she could do was watch him disappear. In the pitch blackness she could barely even see him anymore, and as the distance continued to increase his_ _silhouette blurred even more,_ _the dark trapped him in its claws and ultimately shrouded him in its emptiness and took him away._

 _Her lungs craved air, but she had no intension of returning to the surface. She stayed, looking down on nothing. She felt herself cry, her tears mixing with the ocean water, of which the high salt content made her already red eyes hurt even more. But she remained, until she couldn't hold on anymore. She was empty, hollow, heartbroken, so she let go. She breathed in. Felt the water rushing through her. She was calm until hypoxia set in, she was choking, and the panic of suffocation hit her._

* * *

She jerked awake. Breathing heavily, to get enough air, the air that her body thought it was being deprived off. When the agitation subsided she felt grateful that this wasn't how the events had played out. Her traumatized mind was just playing a trick on her. Still if Fitz hadn't rigged that EKG, to send out a distress signal, no one would have ever known where to look for them, much less rescue them, and her nightmarish scenario might as well have been a reality.

Now all she really wanted was to help Fitz get better, but she had been holding on for too long and it wasn't helping either of them. No matter how much she wanted to stay, her life's philosophy told her staying was a hindrance for their recovery. They needed space to heal. So she left. To hold on to him, she had to let go. 

* * *

**A/N:** This became much longer than I intended it to be.


End file.
